


Lay down, lay down your pain

by umakoo



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor: The Dark World - Fandom
Genre: Berserker Thor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 19:11:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umakoo/pseuds/umakoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Post-Thor: The Dark World fic.</b> Thor's grief drives him into berserker rage. Only one person can bring him back from the brink of such violent madness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay down, lay down your pain

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [放下吧，放下你的伤痛](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6204880) by [Juliana24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juliana24/pseuds/Juliana24)



> Thanksies to womanaconda and beckerbell for the beta! :3

Loki dismisses the handful of Einherjar standing guard among the colossal pillars of the throne room. He climbs the dais to the throne -  _his throne_  - rebuilt anew after its destruction, takes a seat and allows his all-seeing gaze to drift across the vast emptiness that separates the realms.  
  
It is early morning in London when Loki turns his eyes upon the mortal's humble dwelling. She sleeps in her chambers, blissfully unaware of the prying eyes on her fragile body.

Loki is surprised to discover that she is alone in the small bed.

He turns his focus to the rest of the house and finds his brother awake in the next room. Thor is pacing like a caged animal amid the tiny furniture, looking so out of place that Loki lets out a quiet huff of laughter at the absurd sight. His golden hair is gathered behind his neck in a simple plait, plain like the outfit he dons. Loki shakes his head and thinks: _how demeaning_ , but even the common garbs cannot conceal Thor’s beauty, his superiority; he will never fit in with these mayflies he is so fond of.

Thor stops to run his fingers along Mjölnir’s shaft where she rests on the tiny coffee table, and Loki’s lips curve up in a knowing smile. His brother is restless, discontent, and the sight placates an ache deep inside Loki, an ache he refuses to acknowledge even exists.

Thor makes his way to the balcony and leans his arms against the railing, his face turned up to the overcast morning sky.

There is a storm brewing behind the blue of Thor's eyes.

 

The invasion left Asgard in shambles and there is much rebuilding to be done. Loki is kept busy by his kingly duties for a fortnight, perhaps longer, and he does not get a chance to spy on Thor again until late one evening when the sounds of hammering have ceased and the city falls quiet for the night.

He turns his gaze to the familiar corner of London, but the sight that awaits him is something Loki wasn't expecting, not this soon. The mortal sits in her living quarters, surrounded by her friends. One of them is pawing at her shoulders and she attempts to appear strong and unfazed in their eyes, but Loki latches on to her fresh sorrow, revels in this small victory, even if he knew it was coming.

The satisfaction that swells inside him wavers some as Loki realizes that his brother has left not only the mortal, but the whole realm.

 

It takes another fortnight for Loki to locate Thor. There had been no trace of him for days and Loki suspects his brother spent the time in deep mourning, somewhere in the darkest corners of the Tree. When the news of strange rock slides in Bergheim reach his ears, followed by reports of devastating thunder and hail storms that seem to travel from one realm to another, Loki is struck with an overwhelming urge to reveal himself to Thor, but he remains seated upon his throne, watching, waiting; there are far more important things at hand than Thor's sentimental foolishness.

 

His brother’s rage has no casualties, for Thor takes his anger out on lone mountain tops, barren wastelands and the farthest reaches of the sea, allowing his pain to flow out of him for days on end. Loki watches it all from Hliðskjálf, marveling at the magnificent sight of an angry thunder god, but knowing the source of Thor's anger eventually fills Loki with matching rage and deep regret.

After three weeks of unending destruction of the uninhabited parts of the realms, Loki begins to worry, just a little. He can see Thor is becoming mindless in his rage, losing himself to his grief, unable to cease and stay his hammer, causing more and more destruction not only to his surroundings but to himself as well.

As Loki looks closer, he recognizes the hazy, unseeing gaze in Thor's eyes and he knows his brother has gone berserk.

While Loki’s initial reaction to their shared loss was to break everything in sight, Thor remained stoic and kept everything inside, worrying instead about the mortal’s worthless life. And now he is consumed by his grief, unable to break out of the bloodlust he has succumbed to.

 

Loki does not have enough time to form a plan and he finds himself in the desolate old quarries of Bodheim. He arrives disguised as a bird of prey, soaring above the rocky terrain until he lays his gaze upon the destruction Thor has left behind.

His brother is standing in the middle of a small valley, shrouded in deep mists. The sky roars with thunder and the ground trembles as Thor continues to hurl large boulders against the surrounding razor sharp rock formations, the muscles in his arms bulging and straining as he lifts another boulder above his head.

Loki lands some distance away and shifts his shape into the only form he knows can bring Thor back from this madness.

"Brother."

Thor turns his face in the direction of Loki's voice, his chest heaving as he draws in ragged breaths. His eyes are unseeing, blinded by the berserkr rage that pumps through his veins and his skin glistens with sweat, steaming into the cool air.

Loki approaches the mindless thunder god and breathes in the thick smell of ozone that hangs in the air, taking note of the visible tremble in Thor’s limbs, realizing he must be beyond exhausted.

"Brother," Loki repeats. He waves his hand and the enormous boulder Thor is supporting in his arms floats away as if it were no heavier than a feather.

Thor’s hands grasp at air before squeezing into tight fists. His hair is wet with sweat and grime and he stares at Loki with a terrifying expression on his face. There is spit and blood at the corners of his mouth and his overgrown beard. Loki reaches out with his right hand and wipes it all away, feeling the rough sting of Thor’s bristle against the pads of his fingers.

Thor flinches and growls at him like a brutish beast, but as soon as Loki's hand cups his face, the rage in his eyes begins to diminish, the gentle touch reaching him through the barrier of violent fury.

Loki brushes his thumb against Thor's fever warm cheek, moves his hand behind his neck to draw him closer to press their foreheads together. "That’s enough, brother,” Loki murmurs, "it is time to rest now.”  


The intimate gesture, the familiarity of Loki's touch and the sound of his voice continue to guide Thor back from the brink of madness.

"Loki?" Thor's own voice is hoarse and hardly audible. He blinks, his eyes finally clearing. “ _Loki_?”

A moment later, Loki is catching Thor's massive body in his arms as his brother collapses, his legs no longer able to support him.

He settles Thor's unconscious body gently on the ground and kneels beside him, brushes dirty locks of hair from Thor's face, tucking them behind his ears, rubbing the pads of his thumbs against Thor's cheekbones. "You fool," he whispers fondly.

Loki makes sure Thor has suffered no serious injuries, finding only surface wounds. The greatest damage his brother has done to himself is bone-deep exhaustion. Loki does his best to wrap Thor's tattered cape around his shivering body and he spares some seidr to cast an invisible cocoon around the thunderer’s sleeping form. Deeming Thor fully protected, Loki transforms once more and disappears into the grey mists.  


 

As much as Loki hates to admit it, Thor _can_ be quite perceptive. Part of Loki already knows it's only a matter of time before his game is up. Thor can and will put two and two together, and Loki is shocked to discover that some part of him looks forward to their reunion. Four days later, the throne room echoes with familiar footsteps, the gait hurried, almost eager. Loki sits on Hliðskjálf, hiding behind the old visage of the Allfather, but familiar excitement blooms in his chest the moment Thor reaches the bottom of the dais.

"Loki." There’s no hesitation in Thor’s voice despite the question in his eyes.

Loki lets out a dramatic sigh and allows his glamour to fall away, revealing his grinning face.

 

“You continue to impress me," Loki murmurs, voice soft.


End file.
